Not Feeling Well?
by MajesticTaySlime
Summary: Even superheros get sick sometimes. Or sad for that matter. This is just a collection of fluffy one-shots, usually involving hurt/comfort elements. Just... a big book of fluff and angst, I guess. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Wanda's Monthly Friend

Wanda suppressed a groan and clutched her stomach. Her toes curled into the sheets as a wave of pain filled her entire body. Soon enough, the agony that filled her stiffened limbs ebbed back into the pit of her stomach and Wanda released a breath she wasn't aware she had been holding.

That morning could not have gone worse. Wanda was surprised at the ripe hour of three in the morning with her monthly "friend" and had been awake ever since. She was convinced that her uterus was determined to kill her as slowly and painfully as possible. She tried to take some painkillers, only to throw them up immediately. So, now, she sat on the bed, silently suffering and desperately trying not to disturb the sleeping shape beside her.

In the past, Wanda would wake Pietro on nights like this and let him pamper her, as he would be angry in the morning if she hadn't. However, now was different. She had had nights like this since her brother's passing, but none of them with Vision around. On any normal occasion, if you could call this normal, Wanda would've woken him after she had thrown up. However, tonight she hesitated.

Vision's sleep pattern couldn't, even by the most devoted night owls, be called remotely normal. Whereas a human needed to sleep every night, Vision only needed one night of sleep every week or so. In fact, he was able to stay awake and functioning for multiple weeks without sleeping if he had to, but when the time finally came for him to sleep, he went out hard. This was one of those times.

Tony had the synthetic running harder than usual, sending him on mission after mission and leaving little to no down time. Wanda hated it, because, knowing Vision as she did, she knew he was purposefully avoiding sleep in that down time to spend more time with her. That night, however, he just couldn't.

As soon as he had walked in the door to her apartment that night, he nearly collapsed. Wanda had caught him just in time and ushered him into bed, where he promptly passed out and had been asleep ever since.

Wanda gasped as another wave of pain rocketed through her body. As it passed, she glanced over at his sleeping form, watching his chest rise as fall steadily. The thought of waking him briefly crossed her mind again, but she shot it down quickly. He needed the sleep more than she needed him awake right now.

Next, she glanced at the clock. 4:30. It had been an hour since she threw up. Deciding that was enough time passed and that she was brave enough to try painkillers again, Wanda rose and began to make her way to the bathroom. However, she was halted as another wave of crushing agony rocketed from her stomach through her legs.

She hadn't realised she'd fallen until the pain subsided. A slight movement caught her eye. It was Vision, he was beginning to stir. Only then did she realise that, much to her dismay, she had brought a small lamp down with her when she had fallen.

"Wanda?" Vision murmured, beginning to sit up. Wanda made to stand like nothing had happened, but failed when another wave hit her. A groan slipped from her mouth, bringing the synthetic's attention to her. The soft glow of his blue eyes was drowned by a sudden golden burst as he turned on the lamp next to their bed.

"Wanda, are you ok?" He asked, quickly leaving the bed to kneel by her side. Wanda rubbed her stinging eyes, letting them adjust to the sudden light before responding.

"Sorry to wake you, I just…" She trailed off, realising that she had no excuse other than the truth for being on the floor.

"Are you alright?" Vision repeated. She felt the gentle brush of his mind against hers, undoubtedly picking up the pain she was trying to hide from him. "You're hurt."

"I'm really fine," Wanda insisted, making an effort to stand again before deciding against it. Her stomach seemed very touchy on the whole "standing" concept right now.

"No, you aren't," Vision argued, his hand finding hers. "Please, don't try to lie to me."

Wanda sighed. How could she argue with those eyes, that pleading tone, the way his thumb ran over the back of her hand ever so gently? She stood no chance.

"Do you know what a period is?" She asked.

"...You may have to be more specific," Vision said after a moment of hesitation. "There are a lot of different definitions for 'period.'"

Wanda smiled. "Oh, yeah. Well, it happens monthly for women, it's when we bleed from-"

"Oh, yes, that one," Vision interrupted, looking as if a lightbulb over his head had just turned on. "Yes, I know it. Why?"

Wanda paused for a second, waiting for him to connect the dots. The enlightened look came back to his face.

"Oh, I see…" He said, placing his free hand gently on her stomach. His expression changed to one of immense sympathy. "Is there any way I can help?"

"Well, I was on my for painkillers when I fell," Wanda explained.

"Then I shall retrieve them for you," Vision decided. Then, he scooped Wanda up in his arms, moving gently as to not agitate her core.

"You don't need to-"

"I do not believe your body will approve of you standing," Vision stated simply. "You already tried, remember?"

"You saw that, huh?" Wanda sighed. She gave up any hint of argument that had begun to rise and just snuggled into his chest, letting him carry her to the bed and lay her down as if she was a princess. He then vanished into the bathroom for a moment before returning with painkillers. He handed her a couple tablets and a glass of water and watched as she took them.

"What do you usually do to help with the cramps?" He asked once she was done.

"Honestly, just having something to distract me helps a lot," Wanda said, placing the glass and pill bottle on the nightstand beside the bed. Vision nodded, seating himself next to her and wrapping his arm around her. Wanda gladly leaned again his chest, her hand finding his. "Tell me more about the missions Tony has been sending you on."

"Well, they are actually quite interesting," Vision started, going into the details of each of his assignments and how be began to see how they were connected. Wanda smiled as she listened to him talk, letting the gentle tone of his voice wash over her and the presence of his mind near hers calm her. Her pain ebbing and her eyes getting heavier, Wanda listened for as long as she could until sleep claimed her.


	2. Chapter 2: Science Dads

Vision stood in the hallway, tapping his fingers together nervously. He stood at the entrance to the shared lab of Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner, two of the people essential to his creation. He glanced at the two small gift bags that hung at his elbow.

He would have waited for a more decent hour, but thoughts surrounding his current dilemma plagued his mind and prevented any sort of relaxation. Vision swallowed and glanced at a nearby clock. 3:45 a.m.

The synthetic went over his plan in his head once more. Walk in, place the gift bags down, walk back out. Simple, quick, and easy, right?

With one final deep breath and a swell of bravery, the synthetic phased through the closed door and into the lab.

The lab was a sight to see. First of all, it was a mess. Papers, rulers, peitry dishes, notebooks, and anything else one might think of littered the floor. Two small lamps illuminated two sleeping figures on either end of the room. Dr. Banner, closest to the door, lay amongst a pile of papers. A pencil hung from his dangling fingers.

On the other end of the room lay Tony, resting his head in one hand and partially leaning on a microscope. His fingers wrapped loosely around a piece of chalk, worn down by the scribbling on the blackboard behind him. Soft snores rose from both men periodically.

Vision tread lightly on the ground, not a difficult feat thanks to his density shifting abilities. He went for Dr. Banner first, planning on making a circle around to Mr. Stark and then back to the door. Vision very gently approached the doctor, who shifted slightly and mumbled something under his breath. Vision reached for one of the gift bags, placing it very carefully on the desk near the doctor's head. He stood still for a moment, plotting his path among the scattered mess on the floor before moving on to Mr. Stark.

However, on his way to the other side of the room, Vision failed to notice a glass stirring rod on the ground. His foot grazed the rod just slightly, causing the synthetic to over correct and fall into one of the other chairs. A soft screech came from the chair before Vision could begin to hover. He glanced to each scientist, who still lay asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Vision snuck over to Mr. Stark and placed down his gift bag in a similar manner that he did with Bruce's. Then, with his mission accomplished, Vision turned to exit.

Just as he arrived at the door, he froze. The soft clatter of a pencil hitting the floor was followed by a sharp inhale. A whisper cut through the dark.

"Who's there?" It was Dr. Banner. For a moment, Vision contemplated making a run for it, but by the time he had considered the possible outcome of that action, it was too late.

"Vision? What time is it?" The doctor asked. Vision turned, waiting for the scientist to finish his stretch before speaking.

"I believe it is somewhere around 4 o'clock in the morning, sir," Vision said softly.

Bruce rubbed one of his eyes, knocking his glasses loose in the process. "Aw, jeez." He glanced over at Tony across the room. Then, his gaze travelled back to Vision.

"What are you doing down here so late?"

"W-well… I…" Vision wrung his hands. He wasn't very good at this sort of thing yet. "I hear talk around the tower of Mr. Stark being my 'Science Dad,' and I feel like I have not displayed enough gratitude toward both him and you for being essential components to my creation. So, I got you both a little gift to show my thanks. I hope you enjoy it."

Bruce blinked, then noticed the gift bag on the desk. He picked it up gently and opened it, looking inside. Then, he stood up, placing the bag on the desk once more. He walked toward Vision in silence.

The synthetic began to worry. Was Dr. Banner angry? Why didn't he say anything? Did Vision get the wrong thing? Did-

Vision's thoughts were interrupted by the soft feeling of arms wrapping around him. Dr. Banner pressed against the synthetic, tensing his arms tightly. A soft, "Thank you," came from the scientist.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Vision asked.

"It's called a hug. I'm hugging you," Dr. Banner explained. He held on a moment longer before letting go. Vision noticed slight moisture around the doctor's eyes a moment before hands wiped it away.

"Well… if that's all, then… I should go?" Vision gestured toward the door. Bruce nodded, and Vision was gone slightly quicker than he intended.

Bruce smiled as he watched Vision phase his way down the hallway. Once the synthetic was out of sight, he moved back to his desk and sat back down. He took his gift out of the bag, a smooth, white mug with the words 'Science Dad' written on it. The word 'dad' came with the mug, but the word 'science' had been written in a thick-pointed sharpie. Bruce smiled to himself, then glanced at Tony. His smile grew into a smirk.

A few lines in sharpie and a trip to the coffee pot later, Bruce nudged Tony in the shoulder. Tony woke, asking what time it was. By then, it was around 4:15.

"Our son stopped by and gave us gifts," Bruce said, gesturing to the gift bag. "Though, I will have to warn you before you open it, I think he loves me more."

Tony, looking slightly confused, opened his gift bag to find a similar mug to Bruce's, except, in the top corner, before the word 'science,' was '#2'.

"Whaat? This has got to be wrong. Maybe he switched them by accident?" Tony looked up at Bruce, who hid his smirk behind his mug.

"I dunno, seems pretty legit to me." He took a sip of his coffee, making sure to show off the '#1' on his mug. Tony chuckled and gave the doctor a light shove before standing up.

"Hey! Don't make me spill my coffee!"

"Thought you swore off the stuff in favor for tea," Tony commented as he turned off his lamp and headed for the door.

"I figured I could make an exception," Bruce replied, following him.

"I suppose that's fair. I'm going to bed. See you in the morning."

"It already is morning."

"Shut up," Tony yawned, beginning to split off toward his room. "Goodnight."

Bruce chuckled. "Goodnight, number two."


	3. Chapter 3: Wrong Order

_Hey guys! I don't know how to write but I really liked Iron Man 3's post credits scene and just really like Bruce and Tony's friendship all together so here's this. I hope you enjoy!_

Soft music, accompanied by the aroma of food, wafted throughout the restaurant. Bruce sat alone at a table for two, tapping his fingers on the polished wood whilst glancing around the restaurant. Tony had invited him for dinner and was supposed to show up 15 minutes ago.

The doctor was not surprised that his friend was late, and he wasn't usually bothered by it either. Tonight, however, was slightly different. The doctor's stomach rumbled softly, warranting him to gently place his hand over it. He glanced at his watch, then back at the door.

"C'mon, Tony, I'm starving," Bruce murmured to himself.

"Skipped lunch, Dr. Banner?" The sudden voice behind him made Bruce jump. Tony rounded his chair, returning Bruce's glare with a smile. "Sorry I'm late, had stuff."

Silently, Bruce wondered what exactly "stuff" entailed. He dismissed the thought quickly. It wasn't any of his business.

"It's alright... this time," Bruce teased, passing Tony a menu. To avoid making himself even more hungry, Bruce had not opened his until now.

"As long as you don't start turning green on me, I'm good," Tony replied.

Bruce didn't respond as he scanned the menu. Everything sounded so good, but was even more expensive. Though the doctor knew his friend was a billionaire, he still felt uneasy about ordering something too costly. He glanced over his menu at Tony, who was scanning the menu with an almost bored expression.

Bruce settled on a dish of a relatively cheap price, a salad, and closed his menu. Tony did the same soon after, then a waiter approached their table. Both men placed their orders and watched as the waiter left and ducked into the kitchen.

"So, what's going on in the world of Bruce Banner?" Tony asked, sipping on his glass of complimentary water.

"Nothing quite as exciting as what's happening in yours, I'm sure," Bruce said with a chuckle. "Been laying low, as usual. How about you?"

There would come a day when Bruce would hopefully learn to not ask that question. Because, as soon as he did, Tony was off. He ranted of the drama between him and Pepper, recent adventures he had had, little things about the company, and much, much more. Bruce simply nodded along, placing his head in his hand as Tony's words rolled over him.

As much as Bruce told himself that he wished he wouldn't ask, he actually enjoyed their talks. Sure, there were times where Bruce would go home exhausted, and many times where he would nap through 90% of the story. More than all that, though, Bruce found listening to Tony quite enjoyable.

Watching how excited Tony got, listening to his (often inappropriate) jokes, hearing his personality come out more and more with each word he spoke, it all had sort of a calming effect on Bruce. He liked to hear Tony's mission stories, and hearing about his problems helped the doctor forget about his own.

Tony talked through the waiter bringing their drinks and kept talking up until a plate was placed in front of each of them. The billionaire cut himself off abruptly upon seeing not his own plate, but Bruce's.

"That's not what you ordered," he stated shortly after the waiter walked away.

He, of course, was right. In front of the doctor sat a peculiar dish that smelled vaguely of fish.

"It's alright, Tony," Bruce replied, unwrapping his tell the truth, the doctor was hungry enough, he didn't really care. Even if he did, though, Bruce actively strived to avoid conflict, so he would've ate the dish anyway. However, before he could even touch it, Tony swiped the plate out from under him and stood.

"No, it isn't, actually. Waiter! Can we get someone over here please?" Bruce put his head in his hands as Tony continued to try and get the attention of waiter but, instead, got the attention of the entire restaurant.

"Tony, please, it's fi-"

"Ah, yes, finally!" A waiter had arrived at the table, politely asking what the problem was. "Do you know who I am?" Tony asked.

"Why, yes sir, you're Tony Sta-"

"And do you know who that man is?" Tony pointed to Bruce without breaking eye contact with the waiter. The young man looked at Bruce, a look of nervous fear slowly creeping into his face. Bruce waved, giving a small, embarrassed smile.

"Y-yes sir,"

"Then you know that he is one of my most respected colleagues, which means you certainly know that he deserves to be treated with utmost respect." Tony presented the dish to the waiter. "Now, I suggest you take this back and get this man the salad he ordered."

"My apologies, Mr. Stark. I will be right back." With that, the waiter scurried back to the kitchen, head down and tail between his legs. Tony casually sat back down, looking as if nothing had happened.

There was a pause between the two as the other patrons of the restaurant slowly turned back around in their seats.

"Did you really mean all that?" Bruce asked, breaking the silence. Tony looked up from the spot he had been distracting himself with on the table.

"What?"

"The whole 'most respected colleague' thing."

"Of course," Tony went back to admiring his spot on the table. The finish was just so smooth…

"Are… are you sure?" Tony looked up once more, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you work with a lot of highly respected people, I don't really think that I'm… deserving of such a title…" Bruce confessed, actively avoiding eye contact.

"Bruce, look at me." The doctor lifted his eyes from the table. "Of course I meant it. You're a genius scientist, a kick-a** superhero, and an even better friend. Don't let anyone, especially me, ever tell you different."

Bruce paused. What was he supposed to say to that? You too? He felt awkward saying just thank you. To tell the truth, no one had ever said anything like that to him before. He looked back at the table, running through responses in his head. None of them really seemed satisfactory.

"A simple 'thank you,' will do, Bruce." Tony's voice caught Bruce's attention. Relief flooded the doctor's chest. He smiled.

"Thank you, Tony. That means a lot."

There was another pause. Tony had refused to touch his plate.

"Are… you going to eat?" Bruce asked. Tony scoffed.

"How rude do you think I am? It's called etiquette, my friend."

"You know, I'm sure what I had before would've been fine, I could've eaten it," Bruce commented.

"It looked like somebody puked on a plate, I wasn't going to let you suffer through that," Tony argued.

"This is a very fancy restaurant, Tony, I'm sure-"

"Which is why they have no excuse for that sort of thing," Tony finished, taking a drink from his glass. "Face it, Banner, you aren't winning this argument."

Bruce chuckled. "I never do."


End file.
